


Sure Of You

by inhystereks



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Derek Hale Deserves Nice Things, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Full Shift Werewolves, Healing, M/M, Sheriff Stilinski's Name is John, Stiles Stilinski Deserves Nice Things, Strangers to Lovers, Wolf Derek Hale, and then it ended up being the most self-indulgent fluff I've ever written, soft boys in love, they deserve each other, this was supposed to be a crack fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-02
Updated: 2019-03-02
Packaged: 2019-11-08 05:48:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17975618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inhystereks/pseuds/inhystereks
Summary: The Sheriff knew Stiles had found his not-so-little surprise when he went completely silent.“Dad?” he called.“Yeah, son?” John called back.“Why is there a werewolf in the living room?”





	Sure Of You

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Español available: [Sure of You (traduccion)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17995712) by [DraculaN666](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DraculaN666/pseuds/DraculaN666)



The Sheriff knew Stiles had found his not-so-little surprise when he went completely silent.

“Dad?” he called.

“Yeah, son?” John called back.

“Why is there a werewolf in the living room?”

It was his casual tone that made John react. He’d heard Stiles use that tone of voice to say, “So I might be bleeding.” and “So I might have set something on fire.” and “Hypothetically…” too many times to not have an immediate response.

“What?!” He shot up out of his chair and hurried to the living room. There was no one but the dog and Stiles. He sighed. “Funny, Stiles. Damn, you’ll give your old man a heart attack.”

“Do _not_ joke like that,” Stiles said sharply. John held up his hands in surrender.

“It’s your fault for acting like a mythical creature was in the house,” John said.

“It’s _your_ fault for _bringing_ a mythical creature into the house,” Stiles said. He pointed at the dog. “That’s definitely a werewolf. Like. No question.”

“First of all, werewolves don’t exist. There is no second of all, because _werewolves don’t exist_ ,” John said.

“Dad, are you serious right now? He’s literally freaking out because I’m calling him out on being a supernatural creature. How can you look in those eyes and not just _know_ there’s a human under that wolf skin?” Stiles demanded.

The dog did actually seem to be more than a little agitated. He was pacing back and forth, whining.

“You’re scaring him, Stiles,” John sighed.

“How am I scaring him? The only way I could be scaring him right now is if he understands what we’re saying. Which he does, because he’s a werewolf,” Stiles said. He looked at the dog. “Look, dude, I’m not against werewolves or anything. Live and let live. I just want to know why my dad brought you home.”

The dog growled at him.

“It’s fine that he brought you home,” Stiles said, with exasperation clear in his voice. “I don’t have a problem with it. I’m just curious about why. I don’t like not knowing things.”

The dog huffed and turned away, flicking his tail in a distinctly annoyed manner.

“Did you just sass me?” Stiles asked, affronted expression on his face as he stepped forward. The dog looked at him with his teeth bared. “I don’t care if you are a werewolf, buddy, I will spray bottle your ass so fast. Do not play with me.”

“Stiles,” John said. “You realize you’re talking to a dog, right?”

“A dog?” Stiles asked incredulously, “Even if you refuse to admit he’s a werewolf, you can’t actually think he’s just a normal dog.” 

“Maybe he has some wolf blood in him,” John sighed, “But he’s not a werewolf because werewolves don’t exist.” 

Stiles stared at him. Looked at the dog who was watching them with his head tilted. Looked back to his dad.

“Where did you even find him?” Stiles asked, since he clearly wouldn’t be getting any information from the werewolf.

“He was up at the old Hale house. Someone reported seeing a bear, so we went to scout. He found us actually, now that I think about it,” John said.

“The old Hale house,” Stiles muttered, eyeing the animal speculatively. “So you found a werewolf in the woods and decided to adopt him?”

“I didn’t just decide to bring _the dog_ home,” John huffed. “We were going to put him in the canine division. But all the other dogs were terrified of him and he didn’t react well to some people.”

Stiles snorted. “Yeah, I bet. He hated Deputy Haigh, right?”

The Sheriff and the dog eyed him at that. Stiles rolled his eyes at them both. 

“Name?” he asked.

“Bear,” John said.

Stiles actually cracked a smile at that. They’d been sent to the Hale house to find a bear, and honestly, the werewolf could probably count as a small one. 

“He’s only staying until we can find a proper home for him,” John said.

Stiles tilted his head and stared intently at Bear without saying anything.

“I thought you would be more excited,” John said. “I predicted less than half an hour before you had a list of reasons why we’re the best home possible.”

Stiles shrugged. “You would’ve been right if you brought home a dog. But that,” he pointed, “Is a person. He’ll decide on his own whether he wants to stay or not.”

“He’s a dog,” John said patiently.

Stiles looked up at the ceiling and sighed the sigh that all teenagers sighed when the adults in their lives were being particularly stupid. He turned to Bear.

“If you’re like this because you’re cursed or something, you should find a way to let me know so I can help you. I’m great at research,” Stiles said to Bear. He turned to his father. “I’m going upstairs to try and get ahead on some homework, because I have a distinct feeling that I’m going to be dealing with the werewolf you’re pretending we don’t have.”

“He’s a dog, Stiles,” John said.

“Werewolf!” Stiles shouted back down the stairs.

-

Later that night, Bear nosed his way into Stiles’s room. He sat by the door, primly wrapped his tail around his paws, and very pointedly wrinkled his snout.

“Okay, rude,” Stiles said. “I don't know what else you expected from a teenage boy.”

Bear scoffed. Or did what was an excellent approximation of a scoff. As if his judgmental gaze wasn’t indication enough of what he thought of the state of Stiles’s room.

Stiles didn’t move from his spot in bed with his laptop on his thighs.

“Look, dude, I know what I said earlier, and I know I’m not wrong, but my dad didn’t believe me. I’m not going to go around town shouting about the werewolf in my house. I wouldn’t do that to you. I just thought I should at least try to let my dad know what you are since this is his house and everything. You get that, right?”

Bear stared at him for a long while. Finally, he stood and walked over to the bed. He jumped up, sending Stiles’s laptop sliding off his legs. Luckily, to the side of the bed he wasn’t lying on rather than the floor. Bear walked up between his legs and then kept going, carefully stepping onto his torso until his front paws were on Stiles’s shoulders.

He nosed at Stiles’s neck, inhaling deeply, then nipped with the barest hint of teeth. He pulled back and looked directly into Stiles’s eyes.

The threat was clear.

_I can find you and rip your throat out with my teeth._

Stiles cracked a smile.

“Nice try, big guy. If you really thought you couldn’t trust me, you would have left the second both of our backs were turned.”

Bear huffed and licked Stiles’s face from jaw to hairline.

“Oh my god, you petty fucking asshole. What the fuck,” Stiles sputtered, swiping desperately at his face.

Bear hopped off the bed and walked to the door, sending a look over his shoulder before he left. 

Stiles was pretty sure a werewolf shouldn’t be able to smirk while they were in wolf form. It absolutely was not fair.

-

Having Bear around the house was interesting and deeply strange. It was easier when the sheriff wasn't around because then Stiles could actually treat him like the human he was without Bear pretending he had no idea what Stiles was saying to him.

Stiles was probably too in the habit of talking to himself out loud and he very quickly picked up the habit of talking to Bear. He used Bear as a sounding board, demanding he bark once for this option and twice for that option. It didn't take long for him to progress to demanding answers for yes or no questions.

"Please tell me once and for all, otherwise I'll keep worrying about it. Are you cursed?”

Two barks for no.

Well, that was a relief, but it also made Stiles curious about why he was walking around in wolf form if he could become human whenever he wanted. Opposable thumbs were awesome. He would have to guess if he wanted answers, though, and he doubted randomly guessing at whatever trauma the man had been through would endear Stiles to him.

Though he definitely had strong suspicions. Very strong suspicions.

Which meant maybe he completely understood why Bear didn't want to be walking around in human form after all.

-

“Dude,” Scott said warily.

Stiles turned to look at him, then followed his gaze to Bear, who was staring directly at Scott without blinking.

“Oh, that’s just Bear,” Stiles said. The fact that Scott was just now meeting Bear said a lot about how little time he'd spent at the Stilinski residence recently. And the fact that he didn't know why Bear was there also spoke to how much he listened when Stiles was speaking about what was going on in his own life.

“Why is he looking at me like he knows all my secrets?” Scott whispered.

Stiles snorted. Bear was a werewolf. He could probably smell Scott's secrets all over him.

“Dad says he found him stranded, and he was too weird to be a police dog. Apparently, he was only supposed to stay until Dad found a good home for him, but it's been two weeks and l don't think Dad is looking anymore, if he was ever seriously looking in the first place,” Stiles said.

He would have to ask Bear later whether he was actually happy with them. They wouldn't want to be keeping him imprisoned. Well, Stiles wouldn't. His dad still insisted that Bear was just a normal dog. Though Stiles was sure that if Bear actually wanted to leave Stiles would hardly be equipped to force him to stay put.

“He's so huge,” Scott said, “He looks like he could rip my face off.”

Stiles spared a glance, and then did a double take because it really did look like Bear wanted to rip Scott to shreds. He clapped Scott on the shoulder and directed him upstairs with demands of setting up while Stiles got the snacks. Then, he turned to Bear.

"What's up, Cujo? Why do you look like you're plotting Scott's murder?”

Bear glanced up at the stairs and then back to Stiles with a distinctly unimpressed look.

"Yeah, I got that you don't like him. I don't get why,” Stiles said. Bear seemed to contemplate whether he wanted to go through the effort it would take to explain before apparently deciding it wouldn't be worth it. He got to his feet and shook out his fur with a huff before padding into the living room and jumping on the couch.

"Okaaaay,” Stiles drawled, following him. "Well, we're going to be upstairs playing video games. Do you want me to put the TV on for you?”

Bear shook his shaggy head and rested it on his paws. Stiles sighed and walked over. He curled his arms around Bear's neck and rested his face against his ruff. "You know, we don't actually have to have a communication barrier,” he said softly. A low rumble escaped Bear. Agreement, but not acquiescence. Stiles nodded and remained there for a moment. Then he hopped up and smacked a kiss directly between Bear's ears, snickering at the disgruntled look he received in return. “Don't get too bored without me,” he said. He bounded up the stairs with a grin. It was always hilarious to see his wolf roll his eyes.

-

Bear was strangely protective. Stiles didn't know if it was a werewolf thing or something specific to Bear, but once he'd decided to stay for the time being he dogged Stiles's footsteps like the most aggressive mother hen on the planet. 

He wouldn’t let Stiles go past the hallway when he walked in after school until he locked the door. He barked at Stiles from the window if he didn’t put his seatbelt on before he drove to school. He would tug Stiles's sleeve and drag him down to the kitchen so he would eat dinner. He would shut Stiles's laptop with a paw when he thought Stiles needed to get some rest, which was annoying because he could always tell the difference between when Stiles was doing his homework or when he was being a troll on Reddit or something. He would lay down on top of Stiles's perpetually cold feet. He would curl his massive body in Stiles's lap whenever Scott or the sheriff canceled plans. 

And Stiles tried to be as much of a friend to Bear as Bear was being to him. 

He spoke to Bear like he was human, because he was human. He talked to Bear about his day, asked as many questions as could be correctly phrased about Bear's day. He tried to give Bear as many choices as possible. Stiles asked Bear whether he wanted to stay inside all day or be outside, if he wanted Stiles to drop by during his lunch break and let him in or out, what he wanted to eat, whether he wanted to read or watch TV. It was usually TV, because while Bear could obviously read, doing so while in wolf form seemed to be difficult for him. However, he had managed to indicate that he wouldn't mind if Stiles read to him aloud. He seemed to be especially fond of _Harry Potter_. 

Bear had nightmares sometimes and the first time he'd woken Stiles up with his whimpers, he'd run away. Stiles made sure Bear knew that he shouldn't be embarrassed because he honestly didn't mind, and somehow managed to make it habit that whenever Bear woke up in distress, Stiles would brush out his fur. 

They were close, able to understand each other even though Bear had never spoken a word to Stiles.

One night Stiles woke from a dream. It wasn't with a violent start or tears or a gasp. His eyes simply opened. He sat up slowly to look at Bear, who lay across the length of Stiles's legs. He didn't touch the wolf, not wanting to wake him, but it was only a few moments before the force of his stare woke Bear anyway. The wolf's eyes opened, gaze questioning but not truly concerned because Stiles was up, but not distressed. 

"I had a dream,” Stiles said. Bear's head lifted. Stiles reached out to fondle his ears, stroking down the back of his head to his neck and back. "Nothing that bad. It could have been, but … you were there. In the dream. Protecting me. I knew you wouldn't let anything bad happen to me.” He paused for a moment, hands becoming feather light in Bear’s fur one moment, and then gripping as if it was his only anchor in the next. “If there’s one person I’m sure of, it’s you.”

Bear stared at him for a moment before he shuffled his way up the bed so Stiles could wrap his arms around his neck and bury his face in Bear's ruff. They fell asleep cuddled up together. The next morning Stiles woke to the soft pitter-patter of rain. Pearl grey light filtered in through the window. He was alone in his bed. 

There was a man in his desk chair. 

Stiles blinked slowly at the frankly gorgeous man in front of him. He took in the blank expression, wary eyes, and lack of clothes.

"Bear,” he said warmly.

The man's eyes widened, then his eyes crinkled as he smiled fondly. "Derek,” the man said in a hoarse voice 

Stiles blinked. "You don't know my name? After all this time?”

Bear gave him an exasperated look that was so familiar Stiles couldn't help but grin. 

"Derek,” he said sweetly. Derek's eyes slipped closed when he heard his name fall from Stiles's lips.

Stiles wished he could control his curiosity but Derek already knew by now that it was practically impossible for him. 

"Derek Hale?” Stiles asked. The fond smile was tinged with melancholy now. He nodded. 

Stiles shifted on the bed and held open his arms. "Come here.” 

Derek glanced down at his nude body, but Stiles just flailed at him until he huffed and sauntered over. 

Stiles allowed himself exactly one full-body scan and shudder of arousal. He couldn't will his body not to react, but he could try to put most of his focus on the werewolf who had become his closest friend over the past few months. 

Derek crawled into the bed. It was the same and very different. The feeling of naked skin under his hands made Stiles quake, but Derek's presence was intimately familiar. Without thinking, Stiles slung his arms around Derek's neck and buried his face there. Derek melted into him at the gesture. His arms slipped around Stiles's waist and their legs twined together as easily as breathing. 

After a moment of silent connection, Stiles asked, "Are there others?”

Derek pressed his nose against Stiles's temple and breathed deeply. "No. I'm alone.” 

Stiles tightened his grip. "You're not alone.” 

Derek huffed a little, but Stiles didn't think it was disagreement so he didn't comment on it. After a few more moments of silence, Derek shifted slightly. 

"You're not asking questions,” he said quietly.

Stiles hummed. "You'll tell me when you're ready, won't you?” 

Derek stiffened for a moment, and then practically melted into a puddle against Stiles, who took that for the silent confirmation it was. 

And so they continued on. Except sometimes Derek was human. He would respond to Stiles's rambles with genuine interest or dry sarcasm, or sometimes both. He helped Stiles make dinner sometimes. He read to Stiles out loud sometimes. He began acting a little more human around the Sheriff. Nothing too crazy. Just actually reacting whenever Stiles slipped up and spoke as if he could really understand. lt was enough to have the Sheriff side eyeing them anyway.

They still cuddled on the bed, with Stiles stroking every part of Derek he could reach. He was hardly any more capable of controlling his arousal at the sight of Derek's beautiful body, at the sound of his mellifluous voice, at the feel of his petal-soft skin. However, he was getting increasingly better at completely ignoring it. 

Though there were times Derek would tuck his nose into Stiles's neck and slot their hips together seeming to revel in the sensation of Stiles wanting him. lt wasn't malicious. Rather, Stiles got the impression that Derek was awed by it.

One day Stiles woke up and Derek was sitting in the desk chair again. He was wearing clothes.

Stiles was grateful for the foresight that had made him buy some clothes in what he'd guessed was close to Derek's size.

Stiles rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and took in the sight of Derek clothed for the first time. Any hope of not being crippingly attracted to Derek at all times died a quick but overdramatic death in his chest.

Derek smirked, and ducked his head a little like he could tell what Stiles was thinking. Stiles held a hand out, and when Derek took it, pulled him back to the bed.

"Good morning,” he said once they were tangled together as usual.

"Good morning,” Derek said softly, nuzzling that spot behind Stiles's ear that he seemed to favor.

"Did you want to go to the park today?” Stiles asked. Derek burrowed closer, but after a long moment he nodded. "Okay.”

They went on a picnic. Red checkered blanket and wicker basket and everything. Claudia Stilinski had been fond of clichés.

They lay in the sunshine and ate sandwiches and drank juice. Stiles fed Derek grapes and played with his hair and told him utterly ridiculous made up stories about the ants crawling around on their blanket.

Derek looked at the sky and the grass and the trees and Stiles like he was taking in everything he needed to live.

"I haven't been on a picnic in so long,” Derek said. "Aunt Lisa loved them.”

Stiles pressed a kiss to his cheek. "We can go on as many picnics as you want,” he said immediately.

Derek offered up a shy smile. "Maybe next time I could show you where we used to go in the preserve.”

Stiles sent a blinding grin his way. "I'd really like that.”

When the sun started to get lower in the sky, they packed up and went back home.

The next few weekends were spent slowly venturing out of the Stilinski home. They visited several parks and exhausted all the easiest hiking trails. Derek made a comment about increasing stamina that had Stiles turning bright red and nearly braining himself on a tree branch.

On a whim, Stiles took Derek to the nearest city so they could visit a museum and a small used book store that Stiles had stumbled across and fallen in love with.

They'd just left the bookstore when Derek tugged Stiles to a stop. 

"Dude, I swear I can carry my own books,” Stiles said, exasperation clear in his tone.

But Derek didn't try to take the bag from him again. He pulled Stiles even closer and cupped his cheek. After a moment to gauge Stiles's expression, he leaned in and pressed a kiss to his mouth. lt was chaste and soft and the sweetest thing either one had ever tasted upon their lips. Derek lingered there and Stiles lifted his free hand to pull him in again. They stood there exchanging kisses until they were dazed with the taste of each other. Somehow it ended with them in a close, comfortable embrace simply breathing each other in. 

"Home?” Derek asked eventually. Stiles's heart skipped a beat.

"Home,” he agreed. 

lt was a few months later that they were cuddling on the couch and watching TV when Derek said, "Your dad's almost home.”

Initially, Stiles took it as a warning that Derek would be moving around to get out of his clothes and shift back to his wolf form. 

But Derek didn't move at all. 

After several long moments of stillness, it clicked.

"Oh,” Stiles breathed. "Are you sure?”

Derek nodded.

"Okay,” Stiles said. He pressed kisses to Derek's brow and cheek and jaw and lips. "You're not alone,” he whispered.

The Sheriff walked in on them entangled together. They only began to separate when he stopped dead in the living room entrance to stare at them in complete surprise. Derek stood and held out a hand. The other one was firmly within Stiles's grasp. He watched the Sheriff notice that with narrowed eyes, yet he still approached and shook Derek's hand. "Sheriff Stilinski. I'm Derek Hale.”

John's eyes widened as he took another look at the man in front of him. His gaze dropped down to their intertwined fingers. He thought over the random things he'd been noticing for the last few months. John closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them, he looked about as resigned as it was possible for a person to look. 

"Bear?”

Both Stiles and Derek gaped at him this time. 

Stiles recovered more quickly. He had years of experience being on the other side of his father's deductive reasoning. Now, he just smiled mischievously. 

“Told you he was a werewolf,” Stiles said cheekily.

"Yes, yes, you're very smart,” John replied.

Derek seemed to have caught up with them and was looking at Stiles with such an open expression of pure affection that John's heart seized in his chest. 

Immediately, Derek's head snapped in his direction, eyes flickering to his chest. 

Werewolf, John thought. 

"Okay,” he said. "Start at the beginning.” 

John helped Derek reclaim his name and his land. Helped him get a job at the library and a new car, a new wardrobe and a place to stay. 

The loft was beautiful, and by the time Derek was fully settled in, it had more than a little of Stiles's unique flair intertwined with Derek's more subdued preferences. 

One night Stiles was staying over and they were laying in bed, tangled together and half-asleep.

"Hey, Stiles?” Derek murmured. 

"Yeah?” Stiles mumbled. 

"Nothing,” Derek sighed, "I just wanted to be sure of you.” 

It was silent for a moment and Derek almost thought Stiles didn't get it or he was closer to sleep than Derek had believed. But then his ears took in the music of Stiles's quiet laughter.

"Oh my god. You just… I love you. _I love you._ ”

Derek pulled him impossibly closer. 

"I love you, too.”

There, cuddled together in their bed, with the moonlight bathing them in liquid silver, Derek kissed the only person he was sure of.

**Author's Note:**

> Just another little bunny for y'all. Kudos and comments are love! -xoxo inhystereks


End file.
